


Heart Shaped Box

by Morrigan_RedBlack



Series: Keeping Up Appearances [1]
Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-19
Updated: 2014-09-19
Packaged: 2018-01-13 20:28:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1239757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morrigan_RedBlack/pseuds/Morrigan_RedBlack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He wasn't expecting a bed of roses when it came to them. But those thorns weren't suppose to rip him apart, too",.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heart Shaped Box

**Author's Note:**

> Refined and re-edited; because I didn't like how the original turned out 
> 
> Set in 1998, after the match between Austin and Michaels where Austin won the WWE(WWF) title.

 

** _Heart Shaped Box  
_ **

 

**Disclaimer: This is _purely a fictional work_**. **All characters used belong to themselves and to WWE. I do not own anything.**

**Warnings: Implied and explicit M/M relationships, language, alcohol and drug references and angst, implied abuse.  
**

**Characters: Shawn Michaels, Triple H, mentions of "Stone Cold" Steve Austin and The Undertaker.**

**Summary: "He wasn't expecting a bed of roses when it came to them. But those thorns weren't suppose to rip him apart, too",.  
**

* * *

 

Between the cool wall that was pressed to his back and the rough material lightly brushing the soles of his feet, Hunter could care less to bother to look up when he heard the door to their hotel room open and shut; light grunt filled the otherwise silent room as the older man sat down on the edge of the bed.

 

Neither said a word as  Hunter felt the other man's piercing gaze. At any other time, those eyes would have done things that he never thought possible to him. At any other time.

 

Namely a time when he was in love.

 

_Am I now?_

 

Four years of acquaintanceship, traveling together, dining together, laughing and working with each other.

 

_Sleeping with each other; but I am the only one loved him, like a fucking fool.  
_

 

They all, now, had come to an end. He saw it though, call it hindsight but his only regret is when they finally said goodbye, they will be to look into each other eyes and utter those words with confidence.

 

Only if they hadn't ruined what little they had.

 

_But I am the one who's left broken._

 

In the tense silence, the younger blond haired man allowed his mind to wander; aimlessly like a fluttering leave, tossed about in the wind. Back into the spiraling memoirs of who they were, what they did and how they lived.

 

_" **We're Degeneration-X. You make your rules and we will break 'em!!**_ **"**

 

Riding high into the the ever turning tide of the wrestling industry; breaking the barriers, tearing down traditions and stepping over the normal boundaries that defined the society.

 

When they first met, it was almost like a scene out a paperback novel. Hunter was tumbling mess of nerves, unsure of the words-if he'd said 'em right- but somehow a grin from Shawn, coupled with his twinkling eyes,  had put him to ease but he knew- Hunter knew- something in him had changed.

 

_**" Welcome to WWF, kid. This is the lion's den and you got yourself into the right pack",** _

 

They stuck together, most of the times. It was not long before both men realized that they had more in common then the rest of the Kliq; the others had seen it and if they had talked about them, they certainly didn't show it.

 

_**"Have you lain with a man before, Hunt?"** _

 

Of course he hadn't. He had surprised himself by opening up to Shawn; he was so scared of their coupling that if he had cried (he had; it was the only time he was insecure), somehow the moonlight was kind enough not to expose it on his face as they made love that night.

 

_**" So where do we go from here?"** _

 

The silence that came after Hunter reared the question, in the morning after, struck him hard in the gut-like one of Taker's punches- it seemed that Shawn had been stunned. Hunter flinched but he waited patiently for an answer.

 

_**" Look kid, I have no fuckin' clue. I am difficult to deal with and if you think you can handle me, then we take it from here.. but I, ah, I am not sure how to make relationships work cause I haven't been in one, know what I'm sayin?"** _

 

Hunter assured him that it will work. He wasn't expecting a bed of roses, because plainly put its not. Nothing is, as a matter of cold harsh reality. However, it was not enough to deter the younger man away. Hunter was ever the optimist when it comes to everything.

 

Then came Monday Night Wars.

 

Whatever both Shawn and Hunter had been building-as in their relationship- came crashing down on them, with the mounting pressure of work, the need to up the ante to keep up with WCW, the need to push the ratings to be in the business and compete. Most of the times it was to much too handle; both Shawn and Hunter don't really have much friends to look for support in the back and it's no secret there are plenty of people who hate them enough to screw them over, if the opportunity ever came that way. It didn't help to cool things down when Shawn came to heard some disgruntled murmurs of the boys in the back who didn't like him being the face of the company.

 

He turned to things that, apparently, works better than Hunter to keep him sane. Namely, drugs and alcohol.

 

Hunter didn't take too kindly to that. He resorted to stashing away the drugs, especially, when Shawn was not around, which eventually lead them to argue. That will then become a screaming match, which by the end of it will have Shawn storming out on Hunter; Hunter falling back,  head in his hands- feeling tired and drained.

 

 

But Hunter still didn't give up. No, he held on to the little pesky thing, that annoying beacon of hope that it will get better. That things will change.

 

( Now that he'd thought about it, it baffled him as to how stupid he'd been all the while because Shawn did warn him; told him first hand that it ain't gonna work)

 

And then came with Royal Rumble 1998.

 

He remembered someone telling him that he looked so pale that he could have been a ghost as he watched, at the back, the match between Shawn and Taker, when Shawn was flung out of the ring and his back hit the edge of the casket; the sickening thud that was caught by the camera audio as they closed in the view.

 

That night, he sat in their hotel, wringing his hands together in his lap-because he knew he'd probably try to rip his hair out in anxiety- as he waited for Shawn to come up their room.

 

And damned near jumped out of his seat when he heard the door open, the slow grunt of the creak as it closed back.

 

Snap.

 

Click.

 

He remembered wanting to ask what happened, when suddenly Shawn hauled him up by his shirt and slammed him back first to the wall next to the bed. He may be smaller in size, but Shawn is stronger than most big men in back. That, Hunter came to realize, even as it dawned to him that Shawn had his hand wrapped around his throat, eyes blazing with a fury he had not seen from him; not even in the ring.

 

He rasped out, trying to pry Shawn's hand of his throat but the wind was knocked out of him when Shawn punched him hard in the gut and slugged him again at the side of temple.

 

That shot, had him reeling into unconsciousness, the last thing that he remembered was falling on his back to the floor with Shawn on top of him.

 

When Hunter came to, he was aching- head to toe- and he was naked on the floor. Confused, he tried to sit up to collect his memories of what happened, when a terrible ache radiated from between his legs and Hunter can only sit there as he allowed his mind to play back what happened- like a movie without a sound.

 

He'd became so numb.

 

Cold.

 

Shawn was passed out, right next to him , also naked. Hunter kept staring at that man; wondering vaguely in his mind what in the world made Shawn do what he did (and why did Hunter let him). He thought he knew but truth is he didn't. He flinched when the Texan finally stirred and woke up; eyes bloodshot with all the drugs and beer that he had in his system.

 

Shawn then took a good look at Hunter _**(** ** _"_ Fuck, Hunt you are a**_ **mess".)**. He stared a little longer at the younger man before curling up to the wall behind him- knees pulled up, head cradled into the crook of the knees. His body began to slowly shake as Hunter heard sniffles coming from him.

 

That was the very first time he saw Shawn cried. The funny thing is, he didn't felt the need to share his misery. He felt nothing at all.

 

Or maybe he's too waddled in blessed aftershock and trauma of his abuse. After all, it's not like everyday that the man you love so much would storm in, beat the shit out of you and take you when you're hurt.

 

But not everyone is Shawn. Neither is Hunter.

 

Thankfully, he felt Shawn touching his arm, apologizing to Hunter in a rough, grieving voice (if Hunter could laugh, he would have). Sorry, he'd said to Hunter. For everything. That he was messed up. That he had hurt Hunter because he was angry at him. At himself. At Taker. At Vince. At the doctors who told him he can't wrestle anymore. At everything.

 

But most importantly being angry at Hunter.That Hunter was perfect and have a way up the ladder in his career in wrestling but he don't.

 

_**"I don't like perfect things. I break them so they're imperfect. Like me.",** _

 

_**"I am sorry",.** _

 

 

The rustling of clothes brought Hunter back into the present reality and he finally did look up at Shawn, who crammed in the last of his things into the large back. He watched as Shawn zipped the bag closed, and slung it over his shoulder. Vaguely, he read the red digits on clock by the desk.

 

_2.45 am. 4 hours removed from the final match at 'Mania.With Austin._

 

He reached up to the doorknob and twisted it anti-clockwise. He opened the door and before he walked out, he looked back at Hunter who still sat by the floor.

 

"Remember Hunter, don't ask; don't tell."

 

_**Forever in debt to your priceless advice, baby.** _

 

Hunter merely nodded.

 

The door closed with gentle snap.

 

Click.

 

He kept staring at the floor before finally reaching up and strode to the bathroom-his legs suddenly shaky but he don't know why.

 

He stared at the mirror and saw bloodshot hazel eyes staring back at him. Without a life. Almost dead.

 

Just like how he felt inside.

 

He turned on the tap and proceeded to wash his face.

 

Time to start anew.

 

And keep up appearances.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

__

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was originally titled "Forget Me Now" but I changed the title and did some major editing to the fic. I genuinely thought that the original version was not dark enough so I wanted to make it more angst filled and emotionally disturbing as well.
> 
> The line " Forever in debt to your priceless advise" is a line from Nirvana's "Heart Shaped Box", which is the title of the fic too. This song was the one that inspired me to re-write the whole thing again.
> 
> And yes, more Shawter. Because why not? :D
> 
> So since you read it, let me know if you love it or hate it. I can use your opinions as guidance for future improvisation.


End file.
